


What Kind of Criminal?

by pardonmeforyelling



Series: Raywood fics [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pardonmeforyelling/pseuds/pardonmeforyelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"i just committed a crime and i need to use you as a hostage i am so sorry" au</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Kind of Criminal?

**Author's Note:**

> Who else but Ryan would apologize to a hostage?

Ray sighed as he stood in line at the bank, pulling his phone out. No new notifications. Of course not, Michael was never up by the time Ray got out, and Gavin was back in the UK for a visit. He shoved it back in his hoodie pocket, wrinkling his nose. He was starting to seriously regret choosing Maze Bank, he should've picked some smaller branch that wouldn't be so damn crowded.

He was starting to consider leaving and coming back around closing when the heavy doors slammed open. At first he paid it no mind, assuming it was some pissy druglord coming to deposit some dirty money. "Get on the fucking ground!" A voice boomed out. Oh god. This was a major downside to living in Los Santos. Every nutjob on every streetcorner thought they were some goddamn criminal extraordinaires. But when Ray turned to look at the intruder, his stomach dropped to the floor. He _knew_ this particular nutjob.

Some people called him the Vagabond, but the more popular nickname as of late had been 'Mad King'. He was hard to miss, no matter what they called him. Grey skull mask, blue and black leather jacket with body armor peeking out. If the carnage he left behind was anything to go by, this guy didn't fuck around.

Then people were screaming, dropping as they held their hands over their head. Ray stood frozen, eyes wide as he watched those bright blue eyes scan the scene. It wasn't until the first blast went off, nearly deafening Ray as a shotgun shell turned a bank teller to a spray of blood and entrails, that he finally slumped to the floor. A deep-seated chill crept up his body, heart racing as he focused on the shiny marble floor.

'Do not pass out, asshole,' he chanted inwardly, 'do not fucking pass out. This is not the time.'

He heard heavy boots cross the floor, over to one of the remaining tellers. The man, the Mad King, shouted something, but Ray only heard it as a dull ring, still deep in his staring contest with the marble in front of him. Just as Ray was starting to calm down, and contemplating reaching for his phone, a large hand wrapped around his upper arm. Oh god, could this guy read his mind!?

His head snapped up, wide, brown eyes meeting calculating blue, and Ray thought he might pass out again. "You're coming with me kid." Ray almost choked as he was tugged forward, stumbling over his checkered Vans. "Whoa- what the fuck, why!?" he managed.

The taller man didn't answer, eyes on the door as he shrugged the duffel bag full of money higher on his shoulder, dropping the shotgun in favor of an SMG strapped to his hip. "Jesus Christ," Ray breathed, feeling bile rise in his throat. If he had to watch this asshole use that thing he might actually drop dead. He wasn't unfamiliar with guns, Gavin and Michael were always packing heat- you had to in Los Santos- and Ray was dipping his toe in the sniper business, but seeing people get flayed like fish under a hail of bullets wasn't his favorite pastime.

Then Ray was being shoved into the passenger seat of an Adder as his captor rushed around to the driver's side. Okay, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. As he turned to look at the other man, he found himself looking straight down the barrel of a machine gun. He balked, recoiling against the door as the car took off, throwing him back into the seat.

Those blue eyes were on him again. "Don't move. Move, and I shoot."

"Shoot and I puke all over your nice interior, asshole." Ray snapped, before he could bite his tongue. Oh god, this was it. Those were his last words. Rest in fucking pieces.

But suddenly the gun is moving, and the dude pulls his mask off. He tosses it with a laugh into the poor excuse of a backseat with the money before turning a smirk on Ray. "Well then, I guess we're at an impasse." Oh no, Ray thinks, this is worse than death. _He's hot._ Fucking crazy skull mask-wearing kidnapper is hot.

"Guess so." Ray chokes out, slumping back in the seat. He stares forward, watching the highway whip by. If they hit something now, at this speed, Ray is going to fly right out the windshield. Surprisingly, the thought doesn't comfort him.

The guy looked over at Ray from the corner of his eye, raising a brow. "You okay over there? You look like you saw a ghost."

It takes Ray a second to process that, blinking out the windshield. Then he pushes himself up in his seat, glaring at the guy head-on. "A ghost? No, I just saw you turn a lady into fucking mist!"

He laughs at that, looking almost guilty. "Right, sorry about that."

"Sorry." Ray scoffs, rolling his eyes before falling back into his seat, sliding down so he can't see the blacktop race past. "What kind of criminal says sorry?"

"The kind who feels bad that some poor kid got caught in the crosshairs?"

"Stop calling me kid," Ray snaps, crossing his arms. He should really buckle his seatbelt. "And don't even start with that, Mr. SMG, you'd have mowed me down the same if I was on the other side of that counter."

The man shrugs, looking almost bored. "Yeah, probably. Feel lucky you weren't, then." He turns to look at Ray, and those blue eyes send a shudder through him. "And my name isn't Mr. SMG. It's Ryan."

Ray has to laugh at that, shaking his head. "Man, you really are shit at this. Fine, Ryan, I'm Ray. Now, can I get out of this car?"

Ryan tosses a casual glance at the rearview mirror. "Meh. I wouldn't if I were you." Ray raised a brow before sitting up in his seat to look out the back.

His stomach dropped as he saw the cop cars approaching down the highway. "What the hell did you drag me into dude."

"Y'know, just your usual Monday bank-robbing spree." Ray turned back to face forward, staring at Ryan. Despite his joking tone, his face was dead serious.

Just as Ray opened his mouth to persist, the Bluetooth system in the car rang. "Shit," Ryan cursed before jamming the button to answer. "Hey guys, what's up?"

"You smashed your fucking earpiece is what's up, asshole!" a furious voice shouted from the speakers, even as Ryan chuckled. "What the fuck, where the hell are you!?"

"Just making my getaway, no worries." Ryan smirked, turning towards Ray to wink at him. _What the fuck._

"Yeah alright, just hurry the fuck up, Geoff is freaking the fuck out." the voice snapped, suddenly accented. Wait- "Michael!?" Ray yelped, causing Ryan to whip his head back to him, face suddenly deadly serious. _What. The. Fuck._

"...Oh shit. Ray, what the fuck!?" Michael shouted, other voices beginning to bubble up under him.

"You two know each other?" Ryan asked, eyes appraising. Part of Ray wanted to tell him to keep his damn eyes on the road and the cops off their tail, but he was a little busy wondering why the hell _Michael_  knew the Mad King, of all people.

"Yeah I know him, he's mine and Gavin's roommate! Ryan, what the fuck are you doing with Ray!?"

Ryan winced a little, turning his eyes back to the road. "He uh, may or may not have been my hostage."

"Christ." Michael swore before another, higher voice broke in. "Just get your ass back here, Ryan! We'll figure out what to do with him later!"

"Do with me!?" Ray yelped, stomach dropping again. "You got it, boss." Ryan replied coolly even as Michael started shouting again. A touch to the display returned the previous silence. Except now, in it's place, police sirens wailed all around them. Ryan cursed, slamming the brakes as they neared a gap in the highway divider. A yank of the wheel sent them skidding through the opening as the cops raced past, not anticipating the change.

As Ryan started speeding back the way they came, Ray's heart felt like it might beat out of his chest. "Don't worry," Ryan began, "as long as they don't call the choppers we can get them off us."

"That is so not what I'm worried about right now." Ray wheezed, slumping down into his seat. Tucking and rolling was starting to sound like a better and better idea as downtown Los Santos began to approach once more. Ray spared a glance at Ryan, worrying what 'do with him' entailed. Surely it wouldn't matter that he was friends with Michael, whatever his relationship with these maniacs was. And also wondering why the fuck Ryan wore that creepy facepaint if he covered it with the mask.

"Hang on!" he growled, snapping Ray out of his reverie. Before the younger man could even stutter out a 'what' they were slamming sidelong into a sedan, shoving their way onto an offramp, once again leaving the cops in their dust as they sped past, continuing on the highway. Ray groaned, shoulder and ribs flaring where they impacted the door. That was gonna bruise.

Ryan turned his head towards him, face apologetic. "Sorry about that. If we don't move quick these fuckers stick with us."

Ray shook his head, partially to alleviate the pain in his neck and partly to wave off the apology. "Whatever dude, I'm sure it's not any worse than what your 'boss' is gonna do to me."

If Ray was expecting an actual response to that, he didn't get one. Ryan's face was blank once more, and he gave a noncommittal shrug. A real confidence booster. They were silent as they swerved through city streets, Ryan watching out every mirror and window for signs of cops, and Ray trying desperately not to think about getting blasted like that bank teller, or riddled with bullet-holes, or getting his skull caved in with a baseball bat-

"Get out." Suddenly they were stopped, parked in a brightly-lit garage, and Ryan's hand was on his arm- the newly bruised one- again. He hauled him from the supercar onto wobbly legs, dragging him towards an elevator. There they stood side by side, in a heavy, uncomfortable silence as they rose higher and higher. Ray pretended he wasn't shaking and Ryan pretended to ignore it.

When the elevator doors opened right into a large apartment, Ryan shoved his captive ahead of him, sending him stumbling in. Ray looked around, scanning the place for any sign of deadly weapons that might kill him where he stood. All he found was a man leaning against a couch in the large living room. He was wearing a nice, black tux, with a finely styled mustache and heavily tattooed hands.

"So," the man began. Ray realized this must be the boss, and felt his stomach flip. "this is the kid that's causing us trouble?"

"Where the hell is Michael?" Ray snapped, nerves wearing thin. His roommate, his best friend, was his only hope at this point.

The man shrugged, pushing off the couch to walk forward. "I sent him to one of our safehouses, told him Ryan will be taking you there."

Ray feels his mouth go dry. This was not good. "And... Will he?" he asked, fearing the answer.

The boss laughs at that, shoulders shaking. "Yeah, kid. One way or another."

Ryan pursed his lips, raising a brow. "Geoff?"

He just shrugs in response, stepping further forward. "Look, kid, I can tell you're worried. You got any skills?"

Ray's brain grinds to a halt at that, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "What is with you assholes calling me 'kid', seriously, you can't be more than ten years older than me."

Geoff's brows raise, but eyes heavily lidded eyes betray little emotion. Oh god, he's so dead. But then the older man laughs, taking the final steps forward so he can place a hand on Ray's shoulder. "Hey man, I can appreciate some humor, but we're busy people. We were in the middle of something, and I would hate for that to be postponed just because Ryan couldn't keep his hands to himself."

The words had an almost playful tone to them, and Ray turned to Ryan for an explanation. The taller man was smirking, and just shrugged when the other two looked at him. Before Ray could ask, the hand on his shoulder gave a single shake, bringing his attention back. "Look, I'm not gonna ask again." Oh god, what was with these guys having such ridiculous blue eyes. Getting stared down felt like ice building up in his gut.

Ray swallowed, wracking his brain. "Uh... I'm an okay sniper? I mean, I'm a better shot than Michael, or-" No, if Gavin isn't involved, he isn't gonna sell the idiot out. Who knows what Michael might have spilled to him.

Geoff nodded, looking thoughtful. "Well then, Ray, do you want to be our sniper?"

Ray blinked, mind slowing grinding back into motion. "Your... sniper?"

He pulled his hand away to gesture around the apartment and towards Ray as he talked. "Yeah, you'd come with us and the rest of the guys on heists and pick people off for us while we bust the place up. You could stay here if you want, or keep your apartment."

"Actually," Ryan began, attracting the others' attention. "If Ray joins up, it would make more sense for all of them to move out."

"All!? You mean fucking Gavin is in on this too!" Ray bursts out, more confident that his life isn't quite hanging in the balance now.

Geoff shook his head, crossing his arms. "Sorry kid, but yeah. He and Michael were a joint deal, y'know? Not that we bring him along much, after the gas station incident."

Ryan let out a groan at that, face pained. "God that was so bad."

"So Ray, you in?" Geoff asked, peering at him.

Ray blinked, looking between the two. "I mean, if I don't wanna get buried at your safehouse I don't really have a choice do I?"

At that Geoff beamed, and Ryan chuckled. "No, you really don't."

Ray heaved a sigh, letting his head and shoulders slump dramatically. "Of course not." With another laugh, Ryan slung an arm around Ray's shoulders, and the smaller man made himself a promise that he would hear that sound as often as possible. "C'mon, let's get you to Michael. In one piece."

They turned back towards the elevator, Geoff waving them off before heading back towards the couches. "We gonna take the Adder again?" Ray asked as they descended, turning his eyes up toward Ryan.

The older man shook his head. "Nah, that thing's too beat up, it'd raise suspicion. We'll take my Ducati."

"Oh. Cool." Ray said, with a nod. "Uh, what's a Ducati?" Ryan looked down at him then with a wicked grin that sent Ray's stomach to the floor and an identical grin to his face simultaneously. He could definitely get used to this.

What he could _also_  get used to was racing down streets at reckless speeds with his arms wrapped around Ryan's middle, dodging and weaving through much slower traffic. The adrenaline rushed through him, grin plastered on his face even as they narrowly avoided being T-boned by a semi.

"Yikes!" he hissed offhandedly, arms tightening involuntarily around Ryan's waist. The older man let out a laugh at his exclamation, and the pleasant sound was nearly torn away by the wind.

When they arrived at the safehouse, high in the hills near the Vinewood sign, Michael was standing in the driveway, arms crossed as he tapped a foot. A look of impatience and fury melted into relief as he saw Ray on the back of the bike.

He rushed forward as the bike rolled up the driveway, and nearly tugged Ray off the bike before he could even swing his leg all the way over.

Out of everything that happened that day, the last thing Ray expected was for Michael to pull him into a tight hug. "Thank god, you fuck."

Ray laughed, patting him on the back. "Good to see you too buddy. So, do I get to ask how the hell you got caught up in this?"

Michael pulled away, grinning. "They said they needed more firepower, I said fuck yeah. Simple as that." During this exchange, Ryan slid off the bike, approaching them with a faint smile. Michael turned to him, brows furrowing angrily. "So, can I ask why the hell, of all the people in that bank, you managed to snatch my fucking roommate?"

Ray turned as well, curious to hear his answer.

Ryan shrugged, smiling unabashedly as he said, "What can I say? I guess I have a type." There was a beat of silence before Ray let out a loud laugh, followed by Michael's chuckle. Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

* * *

 

Ray was trying his damnedest to not bounce in his seat as Ryan slid into the driver's seat of the Adder. He had been practicing shooting with Jack and Ryan for weeks, and was about to go on his first full-on heist with the full crew.

Ryan laughed as he started the car, watching the others pile into the Fake AHmobile. "You excited?"

"Hell yeah!" Ray practically shouted, already feeling his trigger finger itching. "First heist, of course I'm excited!"

The older man let out another laugh as Michael laid into the horn, that annoying song echoing in the garage. He turned to Ray with a smirk, raising a brow. "Ready?"

Ray decided to occupy his antsy hands by burying them in the collar of Ryan's jacket to pull him in for a kiss. Ryan hummed at the contact, pressing a hand to Ray's lower back to hold him there.

Then the horn rang out again, along with Gavin's cry of, "Ey! None a that now, we've got heisting to do!" Even as Michael laughed and jokingly chimed, "Calm down!" in a nasally tone.

The two pulled away just far enough to separate, still breathing each other's air. "Damn right I'm ready." Ray murmured as Ryan chuckled.


End file.
